


Changing Channels- Where did Cas go when Gabriel sent him away?

by SarahJaneS



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Challenge Response, Episode: s05e08 Changing Channels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 11:16:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4433426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahJaneS/pseuds/SarahJaneS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is in response to a fan fiction challenge for facebook. The question was where did Cas go when Gabriel sent him away during the episode Changing Channels. Dean asked but Cas never answered. This is my answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changing Channels- Where did Cas go when Gabriel sent him away?

          “Dean!” Castiel gasped. One minute he was standing with Dean and Sam, and the next his ridiculous brother had teleported him to…where? He had to get back. He had to find a way. Dean was in danger. Sam as well, but Dean was his charge.   
          Cas checked to ensure his angel blade was still tucked up his sleeve and then examined the room. He was in some sort of lounge. Couches and chairs lined the walls and a large spread of edibles decorated the table. A large vanity illuminated the room with rows of lights, and clothes, cosmetics, and toiletries were scattered across its surface. There were no windows, but Cas noted a solitary door against the far wall. With no other option, he walked over to take it.  
          Just as he was reaching for the knob, the door swung in and a short man stepped through. He was wearing a headset and held a clipboard like a shield against his chest.  
          “Oh look at you,” he mused and reached out to touch Castiel’s trench coat. Cas took a step back, warily. The man shrugged. “Looks like you are all set, I will lead you out.”  
          “What is this place? Where am I?” Castiel demanded and the man looked at him oddly.  
          “You’re in Vegas. Maybe you are enjoying the local attractions a little too hard here?” He grinned, but Castiel did not return the gesture. He did not like the man or this place. “Come on,” the man called over his shoulder as he turned and Castiel reluctantly followed.   
          He was led through a long hallway and up a flight of stairs. As he climbed, he hear a rumble of voices up ahead and in the distance. Many voices. Castiel slowed down, and stared at the man who turned to look at him again.  
          “We’re going to be late and the questions can only run an hour so you need to get out there,” he said a little less pleasantly than he was before. Castiel rechecked his angel blade. He was an angel of the lord. Whatever was up this staircase, he could face.   
          Moving forward, the man led him up and around a bend until he was standing off to the side of an illuminated stage. Where had Gabriel sent him? Castiel had to find the way out, and the way back to Dean.   
          He turned with intentions to ask the man where the exit was but already the man had stepped into the lights of the stage and was reaching for a microphone. Castiel looked around, not knowing what to do. Was he supposed to follow? Was he supposed to remain? Others were standing around but none of them seemed to be paying him any attention.  
          “Ladies and gentlemen!” The man shouted into the microphone and Castiel jumped. It was so loud! But not nearly as loud as the screams that resounded back to the stage. How many people were out there? Castiel tilted his head a little to peer around the curtain and saw a vast theater with every seat occupied.   
          “Gabriel!” Castiel hissed under his breath, “Get me out of this! Bring me back to the Winchesters!”  
          “Thank you all for joining us tonight, and I would like to announce a very special guest. You may know him as Castiel…” the crowd screamed and Castiel’s head whipped around to glare at the man. How does he know Castiel’s name? “Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome, Misha Collins!”  
The noise from the crowd numbed Castiel to everything else. The sound drowned out thought itself. He stared at the man on stage, his eyes wide and checked again for his angel blade. He was an angel of the lord. This did not terrify him in the least.   
          The man motioned for him to come out and Castiel looked around. There were no obvious exits. He could take the stairs back down but where would that lead? Nowhere that he couldn’t be found and brought back. Clenching his jaw, Cas took a step forward, and then another. He willed himself onto the stage.  
The crowd seemed to respond very enthusiastically at his appearance. He glanced at his attire; his usual suit and trench coat, and then back at the crowd. He didn’t realize he made such a fashion statement. Castiel walked over to the man and was handed a slim microphone. Castiel studied the device gripped in his hand. What was he supposed to do with this?  
          “Thank you, Misha for joining us today,” the man said with a smile and Castiel looked up at him, puzzled.  
          “My name is Castiel. You said it earlier so you know.” The man’s smile thinned and he pointed down at the microphone in Cas’s hands. Cas brought the microphone up to his lips as the man had with his own. “Castiel,” he said again and jumped at the way his word echoed around the room.  
          “Why don’t we just open for questions,” the man said flatly, and suddenly hands shot up all around the crowd. A young girl near the front was passed a microphone from another man walking through the crowd and she stood up.  
          “Hi, Misha!” She said and giggled. Cas thought about correcting her on the name, but she spoke first. “My question is, what do you like to do for fun?” Cas glanced questioningly at the man on stage who nodded encouragement, and then brought the microphone to his lips once more.  
          “I do not have fun. Armageddon is approaching and I must prepare for the coming of the end days.” The crowd blossomed with laughter and Cas took a step back appalled. Why were they laughing about Armageddon? Were they all demons?  
          “Next question please,” said the man on stage and other hands shot up. An older woman was passed a microphone and she breathed heavy against it.  
          “Misha, my question is what is it like to be so sexy?” Laughter and howls echoed around the room and Castiel’s eyes darted back and forth. He dropped his left arm to brush fingers against the hilt of his blade. It was a comfort. Angels of the lord were entitled to small comforts.  
          “I have been told my vessel is aesthetically pleasing, but I really don’t care about such things.” The woman frowned and looked to one of the other crowd people. Mutters rose around the room.  
          Then suddenly a man called out “That’s just Misha being Misha!” and everyone was laughing again.  
          “Next question!” the man on stage called and Castiel glared at him. Hands shot up all over the crowd and the microphone was handed to a girl that…had a picture of him on her shirt. Castiel gasped. What was this place? Why did these people worship him like a god?   
          “Misha, there has been a lot of talk that this might be the season for…Destiel…” wooing and whooping resounded and Cas blinked against the lights trying to get a better look at the faces all staring up at him. How many wore shirts with his name or face? And there he saw one of Dean and of Sam. So he was not a god then…or were they all? Off in the far back of the theater, Castiel’s eye caught the faintest glow around a door. It must be the way out. “…what is your thoughts of Castiel finally having a relationship with Dean?” Cas turned his attention back to the girl and her question. She said Dean. So she knows about the Winchesters as well. Were they all spectators of his life?   
          “Dean and I share a profound bond,” Castiel said, suddenly breathless, and he dropped the mic on the stage. The crowd cheered which jarred him even more, and Castiel could only think to run. He was not scared, he was an angel of the lord! He just needed to get back to Dean. Knowing the only option was forward, Cas took a step off of the stage and jumped into the space between him and the audience with intentions of getting past them by way of the empty aisles, and to the doors in the back.  
          Screams sounded all around him and Castiel recoiled as swarms of people leapt to their feet to run towards him. Cas was swallowed by them and his face danced across his vision in various forms of attire. The screaming people pulled at his coat and his hair and one even pinched his backside. Cas tried to push them off, tried to get away but they kept pulling at him and shouting at him.  
          “We love you!” “Marry me!” “You’re an angel from heaven!” Then a woman holding a camera was shoved from behind and the lense of her camera smacked into Cas’s face, cutting the bridge of his nose.  
          Well he had about enough. Using his wings, Cas shifted out of the crowd and to the back of the theater. He huffed out a breath and turned to reach for the door.  
          “Are you…Misha Collins?” said a small voice and Cas looked down. Beside him was a girl about ten years of age, sitting in a wheel chair. Her legs seemed to be underdeveloped and Castiel could only assume she would never be able to use them. He glanced back at the large mass of people near the front of the theater. They had not even realized he was gone yet.  
          “I am,” he said slowly, indulging the girl and her odd title. She smiled up at him and reached out with her hand. Castiel took it.  
          “Thank you,” she sighed through her smile, and tears formed in her eyes. “Thank you for being so wonderful. It if wasn’t for you and your show, I don’t know how I would get through the week. The pain is really bad sometimes but you always can make me smile.”   
          Castiel studied the girl before him. This odd place with its clothing of him, its strange questions, and strange titles might not be entirely bad. Not if this girl found hope in knowing the existence of one solitary angel.   
          “You’re welcome,” was all Castiel could think to say. He reached out with his other hand and placed two fingers against the girl’s forehead. Her eyes slipped shut just as tears spilled down her cheeks.   
          Castiel turned, let her hand slip from his, and reached for the door. He opened it eagerly and rushed inside, ready to return to his Dean.


End file.
